Bad Blood
by SummerRose12
Summary: Macavity decided to give his only son, Quaxo to his brother, because he knew Munkustrap could give him a better life. Years later, he speaks to Mistoffelees, who he knows is that son. PLEASE R&R! This may turned into a multi-chapter story later on.
1. Regret or Acceptance?

The Magical Mister Mistoffelees is a performer like no other. He is a mindboggling magician, and a clever mystical cat. He uses his tricks, not for just the fun of being a kitten, but for a real purpose. Must I mention the night he saved the Jellicle Ball by making Old Deuteronomy reappear? Or when he produced seven kittens from just a top hat? Can you not say he's magical? Can you not say he's a remarkable feline, with a tremendous talent?

I don't think I could ever think less of him. Day after day I watch him with a heavy heart, knowing that I could never see him and smile in pride. For I have no pride in my life. Not for anyone in my past and certainly not for myself. I only have shame for all that I have become. Every time he passes the streets near my dwelling, I wish I could speak to him, or at least come closer to him, but I will resist the urge to have that happen. If I take one step out of place from the boundary lines between me and the Junkyard cats, it would be disastrous. I don't care how much I want to, I can't interact with Mistoffelees. It just isn't done. I did all I could to protect my Quaxo, even if it means protecting him from his own father; me, Macavity.

Yes, he's my son. Now, there's a bleak history that doesn't need to be repeated in my own words. This is a sensitive subject, and I don't like to talk about it often. You'll have to excuse this hesitance. I'm not one to be very emotional. I am nothing but a deformed statue; a hollow shell of the feline I once was. My good life had suddenly cracked and crumbled into bitter rubble. I can't bring that back. If I tried to see him again, I don't think I could stand witnessing him leaving me again. He can never know his actual origins, or I fear the worst…

My tale is not a pleasant one. In fact, my story of Mistoffelees is as tragic as they come…

~^..^~

Munkustrap headed into the dark allies of London without a soul behind him. The evening sky was pitch-black and thin blue-grey clouds sailed by the pale crescent moon. He hid in the shadows, where he waited patiently outside of a theatre, now abandoned to cats due to a human takeover. He had received a note the other day in his den at the Junkyard. He didn't need to know who it was from. The den_ reeked_ of his smell.

_Munkustrap,_

_Forgive me for coming into the Junkyard and leaving this note in your absence, but I need to speak with you. It is a matter of great importance, concerning a kitten. Please come and wait outside of the abandoned theatre tomorrow at midnight. Bring no one with you and make sure no one follows. I will explain when I arrive._

_Mac_

Thanks to Bombalurina and Demeter, Macavity had a bad reputation. Mostly from 'crimes' they said he committed, but Munkustrap knew this wasn't as true as it led on to be. Yes, Macavity did do a few things, but both of the queens took it way out of proportion. It wasn't every human crime, but rather, a few key ones. To Munkustrap, Macavity could be a bother for the tribe, but he was his brother. Half-brother actually, but it mattered little. Old Deuteronomy had said that the ginger tom was banished, but the truth was, he wanted to leave so the Jellicles wouldn't be torn between him because of all of the dark stuff he had gotten into. The point being, Munkustrap, though supposedly being against Macavity, did truly care for him. He just had to keep it hidden, thus enabling the half-brothers to contact in case of an emergency. This had to be, considering he had actually come into the Junkyard. Munk was pretty sure the ginger tom would have stayed there and waited for him if he wasn't in danger of being seen by any of the other tribe members. Now, the silver tabby sat in the darkest of night, waiting for his half brother to come for some mysterious reason.

Munk read the note over and over, seeing that it was well past midnight. The time didn't concern him as much as Mac's words did. A caring and protective nature overcame Munkustrap at the thought of a kitten being endangered. The silver tabby sighed deeply, and rubbed his eyes, trying to massage some drowsiness out of him. He looked around once, and then just started to stare at the note under his paw. The night fell completely silent.

"I'm glad you made it." An eerie voice greeted.

Munkustrap sharply turned around. A blood-red figure was edged in the shadows of the dark night sky. Its fierce yellow eyes smiled mysteriously as a tooth grin was exposed. The sight made Munk flinch, though he could already tell who it was. Macavity stepped into the moonlight, looking less horrific, and more relieved to see his brother, "Sorry," he said, "I hope I didn't scare you. I seem to have that effect on people…" –the red tom shrugged-, "It's good to see you again Munkustrap."

The silver tabby sighed once, dropping his shoulders, "Macavity, cut to the chase, what's this about a kitten?"

Macavity gave a sorrowful frown and didn't speak. Instead he turned and stepped into the bushes. Munkustrap blinked a few times as he waited placidly for his brother while he shook the bushes. A moment later, the ginger cat came out carrying a tiny black and white tuxedo kitten. It was mewling helplessly and beamed at Munk with its little hazel green eyes. It didn't even look like it had been born for more than two weeks. The silver tabby tom raised both his eyebrows in surprise. After staring at the small kitten in amazement, he looked up at his brother. Macavity's eyes were pleading as if he was in desperation.

The ginger tom dropped the kitten on the ground gently and met the silver tom's gaze. "Munkustrap," he whispered, "This is my kitten, Quaxo. He's the only one in his litter. His mother died shortly after she gave birth to him. I can't take care of him. There aren't any queens residing in the Warehouse that can. Brother, I haven't asked you of anything our entire lives, but I need you to do this for me. Please take my kitten to the Junkyard. Have him be yours and Demeter's kitten, if you wish!"

The silver tabby tom was hesitant toward his brother's request. First, he was in shock at Macavity having a kitten in the first place. He wondered how long it was before the ginger tom realized that this…Quaxo…would need a queen to take care of him at such a young age. Munkustrap, however, wasn't sure if it was the smartest thing to do. If the Jellicles found Macavity's scent anywhere on this kitten, it wouldn't be in the Junkyard long, and worse, if the silver tabby was to take him, how would he convince Demeter to pose as the young kit's mother? It wasn't possible. There were too many risks that came with taking Macavity's child into the Jellicle's care.

"Mac," the silver tabby started, "I don't think I can-"

"Munkustrap," Macavity interrupted, with a desperate tone, "Please, you have to take him. If you don't then he'll die."

Munkustrap froze at that, "Wh-what?"

"Like I said, None of the queens in the Warehouse have milk produced to nurse Quaxo. He hasn't been fed since his mother died, and I'm afraid if I tried feeding him anything else, that will just make him sicker."

Everything his brother said immediately stopped Munk in his train of thought. If a kitten died, and he knew he could have prevented it, the silver tabby could never live with himself. After all, he was the protector over the Jellicle kittens. With a heavy sigh, and swallowing every last bit of integrity he had, Munkustrap looked down at the kitten. His eyes were begging as much as Macavity's were. He stood up, walked over to where Quaxo sat, and picked him up in his mouth by the scruff of his fur. The silver tabby tom set him down gently and pushed the kit near his chest. Munk looked up at his brother. Macavity was smiling gratefully, "Thank you Munk," he whispered, "You don't know how much this means to me."

Munk nodded once, "I have to go. I'll take Quaxo, but don't try to contact me again. I can't take anymore risks, meeting with you. I hope I don't see you again under such circumstances, brother."

"As do I." Macavity whispered, "Take care of him Munkustrap."

"I promise you, I will."

As the brothers nodded a final good-bye, in hopes to never meet after this ordeal, Munkustrap took Quaxo's small scruff of fur in his mouth, and carried him off to the Junkyard, where the tribe awaited him from his guarding duties. He was trying to convince himself that Quaxo was no longer his nephew, but he was just an infant kitten that he didn't really know. He wondered if Macavity would mind if he blamed _him_ for Quaxo's weakness. It wouldn't hurt, and the tribe already hated him.

The kitten started to suddenly mewl in pain of being carried by his scruff. Realizing this, Munkustrap put him down and tried to stand him up. That only made the kitten complaint louder. Munk sighed "I'm sorry little guy, but if I can't carry you, you'll have to walk."

Oddly enough, Quaxo nodded, and suddenly stood up, walking in front of the silver tabby tom. Munkustrap jaw drop, but quickly caught up to the kitten, "Wow…" he whispered, "So you can understand me, eh? Well, that just makes you even more amazing, considering how weak a kitten you should be. Amazing enough…" Munk looked to where the kitten was walking, calmly trying to think of something to say to the tom kit. "Hm…you should have a better name than Quaxo, shouldn't you? And you're going to need one to erase Macavity from you sooner …You know what we could name you? Mistoffelees. That's worthy of amazement, isn't it? I always wanted to name my son that, if I was ever so fortunate. Do you like that?" –The kitten actually nodded naively- "Okay, then your name will be Mistoffelees from now on…huh…we could call you Misto. I like that. Misto….It rolls off the tongue from Mistoffelees."

Soon, after a few moments of silence, Munkustrap finally saw the chain-length fence, guarded actively by other Jellicles. He stopped. Mistoffelees did the same. Munk looked down at the kitten, and he was absolutely beaming with excitement, impatiently awaiting the gates of his future to open. The silver tabby sighed, and then gently pushed the fence open, exposing the peaceful Junkyard. Munk led his newly thrilled kit inside.

"Well, little Mistoffelees," he started warmly, "Welcome to your new home."

Misto's only reply was a giddy smile…

~^..^~

Leaving my only son with my brother for good was the hardest thing I ever head to do. I thought, maybe, I could have kept him with me, but knowing the henchcats that live with me, they would eat him alive. Either way, Quaxo was going to end up hating his father. I knew he would get a better future with Munkustrap raising him. What could he have possibly learned from me? After years and years of watching the Jellicles bitterly, thinking of how much they hated me, and I them, I would've despised myself for ever giving up my son to the Junkyard. But I realized this was the best thing I could ever do for him. Quaxo was going to learn from my brother, and was going to have a greater purpose than what he could have at the Warehouse.

I still miss him though. I always thought if I had a son, I would train him to be one of the strongest heirs to a criminal empire in the city. He could have been so much, and yet so little. At some point, Quaxo would have become bitter and hateful, like I did. Though, I do regret ever giving him up, I know Munkustrap would raise him to be the tom I'd want him to be: a good cat, with a good future. The reason I tell you this is because it was only yesterday that I saw him padding down the sidewalks. It was a cold autumn day, and I was skulking in the shadows, as usual. I thought I just might frighten any kittens that came around, for my own personal delight. (I truly did become a bitter old tom) Then I saw him. What I couldn't believe was how much Quaxo grew. His small white face grew wider, and he was definitely larger from when I last saw him. His tail was wimpy, but I didn't think it really mattered, and his eyes were no longer the biggest thing on his face. They had shrunk by a little. I wanted to cry, because after all these years, I still knew my son.

That is why I have infiltrated the Junkyard tonight. I needed to see Quaxo again. He was sleeping peacefully in his small den. The Junkyard had little inhabitance space for their young. He was with no one. He slept as if he was a kitten.  
It was at this point, that I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to speak to him; just for a moment- a second. It didn't matter. I just needed to hear my son's voice talking back to me. It would kill me if I didn't.

"_Mistoffelees…"_ I whispered gently. I did my best to keep out of sight. I was in the shadows, and hopefully, Quaxo wouldn't be able to see me.

The tuxedo tom groaned, and leveled his head up. He squinted as his fur ruffled, "Wha..?" he mumbled.

"Mistoffelees, wake up." I said louder.

"Who is it…?" Misto asked tiredly.

"Wake up!" I repeated.

He then immediately bolted up from his bed. His eyes gazed around his den in both shock and fear. "Who's there?" he shouted nervously, "What do you want?"

"Don't wake up the Junkyard." I warned, "Please, I just want to talk to you." The young tom just seemed to be spinning around in circles, trying to find the source of my voice.

"Who are you?" Misto asked tentatively.

I didn't know how to answer this at first, but I knew I could at least say half the truth, "I am called many things, but you can call me, Mac."

"What do you want?" In his tone of voice, I could tell the young tom was nervous. I would usually be annoyed by his constant questioning, but Misto was different. He wasn't just some random henchcat I was talking to, he was my only son. I had to find _some_ tolerance for him.

"Call me your guardian Mistoffelees. I only have desire to talk to you."

"Guardian?" the tuxedo tom whispered, holding back a chuckle. It was a cheesy thing to say, but it was all I could think of at the time. Misto cleared his throat, "Okay…what do you want to talk about- Where are you?"

"I'm around," I said, "No where that you could see me though." Misto started looking up. I wanted to laugh, but I kept a serious face as well as I could. I continued, "I was curious about who you were, what you are; all about you, really."

"I…I don't think I can…trust you…"

"Yes you can. I won't harm you, or anyone around you. I'm just a voice that speaks to you and you only."

"Um…well…Alright. I guess I can…" He still looked uncertain, but at least he was cooperating.

"Speak quickly. I cannot stay long." I suddenly warned.

"My name is Mistoffelees, but um…you already knew that. My mother and father are members in my tribe. Their names are Demeter and Munkustrap, for the record. I'm about to be mated with a queen named Victoria the next Jellicle Ball, and right now I am completely freaked out because I'm hearing a voice inside of my head!"

I chuckled at that a little. At least he had gained my sense of humor. "There's no need of being afraid of me." I said comfortingly.

The tuxedo tom raised his eyebrow, "Then why are you asking me all these questions?"

I was at a slight pause from this. I didn't want to expose too much of myself. If only I could tell him the truth…but I knew that will never be a possibility. I sighed simply, "Sometimes, there are words that need not to be said. I am but another mystery for you, as you are to me. But Mistoffelees, you have so many that care about you, and you have an unusual talent that could someday be useful to your advantage. I trust you have a prosperous life ahead of you."

"Th-thank you…?" Misto said unsurely. I don't think the tuxedo tom really knew what to say at that point, and I had not the means to continue my rambling discourse. I knew this was a good time for me to go.

"I must leave," I said, "Continue to live your good life Mistoffelees, for you do have a bright future here."

"Wait," he choked out, "Will I ever hear from you again?"

I paused, knowing the danger of saying yes, but the sorrow that came with no. What was I to say, other than a simple and emphatic 'I don't know'? "Maybe someday I will return. Good bye Quax-…Mistoffelees."

I quickly ran for the exit, hoping he didn't see my dark shadow silhouetted over the dark majestic evening sky, but not before hearing, "Wait! Were you about to call me Quaxo?"

My heart sank when I heard those words. I was angry at myself for even thinking the name and sorrowful because there was so much that Misto could never know. It wasn't a good idea to speak to him; it just made me feel worse. For both our sakes, I hoped we would never meet again. It may not be so, but I can hope. Maybe I will come back and speak to him, maybe not. For now, I don't think I should ever come back into his life. From what he told me, he is going to have a mate, and that meant he would have a bright future ahead of him. I suppose, all I can say is good-bye to my son, Quaxo, and pray he has a better life than his father…

**A/N: I'm hoping for some positive reviews. I'm considering continuing this story, and turning into a multi-chaptered plot. Comment or Question, please review and feel free!**


	2. Author's Note

A/N: Halo everyone! Let me just thank anyone who read this story so far, I'm very grateful towards the gesture, however, I just seem to have a bit of writer's block with this story so far, and I would really appreciate some input or ideas as to what where I should bring this story. I'm sorry that I've sort of neglected it, but I'm back now to write more, but I'd like some help as to where I bring the plot line. If you could email (not review) any ideas to me, it would be EXTREMELY helpful. Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! I hope to see some ideas soon!

Yours Truly,

~SummerRose12


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